


Sanctuary

by Lenny9987



Series: Gaps in Canon [2]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Book 1: Outlander, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 02:15:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5767426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of my Gaps in Canon series. Set during Outlander.</p>
<p>What transpires when Claire faints after the wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted fic from Tumblr.
> 
> "Anonymous said:I have an idea, Jamie’s POV when claire passes out right after the wedding. Him taking care of her, Claire in his lap, what is he thinking with all thats happened? We know he loves her but what does this moment mean for him?"

She did better with the Gaelic than anyone, including himself, had expected. But as they were exiting the church he could see that it was all hitting her at once. Her feet stumbled along the path and he gripped her arm holding her up for the next few steps. She failed to regain her footing. He caught her gently as her legs crumpled beneath her.

“Weel, she made it thru the ceremony,” Rupert pointed out. 

“No surprising,” Murtagh muttered under his breath along with something about drink.

Jamie wasn’t paying attention to their banter. He sat himself on the ground and rested Claire’s head in his lap.

“We should send someone to fetch smelling salts,” Ned suggested. 

The men were beginning to crowd around them. Jamie curled over Claire protectively. “That’s enough. What she needs is a wee rest wi’out everyone crowding round watching her,” Jamie said loudly. “Go on ahead, the lot o’ ye. We’ll be along shortly - ye can assure yerselves the wedding feast is ready, aye?”

He looked to Dougal who stared back for a moment before nodding. “Aye. If ye’re no there before long, I’ll come help ye along myself, aye? This needs to be settled  _tonight_. I must get word of the marriage to Randall soon or he’ll come lookin’ for her and-”

“Aye, I understand. We’ll be along,” Jamie interrupted, eager to be alone with Claire. He knew well enough what remained to make the marriage official but he needed her to help him through that part - with all the stories the men had told last night by way of advice, the last thing he wanted was to do something she didn’t want or like. 

Dougal huffed but with a jerk of the head, the men followed him further along the path towards the inn and Jamie was finally able to breath freely. 

He looked down at Claire’s face. For the first time all morning, the tension was gone from it. He’d known full well that she had no choice in the matter, but he could not help the wave of tempered joy swelling within himself - he wanted her and now she was his - his bride, his wife.

A few of her curls were coming loose from the fastenings in her hair and he reached out tentatively to touch them. Her hair was soft as he wrapped one of the stubborn ringlets around his finger. The pearls of his mother’s necklace enhanced the creaminess of the skin at her throat and he released the lock of hair to run his fingers over those precious pearls. He wished he had more he could give her - he would give her everything he had… which he pretty much already had. 

“Mr. Fraser?” a voice from behind startled him. It was the priest. “I saw your wife… had…” The nervous man gestured to where Claire lay. “I thought this might help.” He held out a cloth that had been doused with cold water.

“I thank ye,” Jamie responded, taking what the priest held out. 

With a nod, the priest turned back toward the church. His wife. It was the first anyone had officially referred to her that way. It made him smile. He loved her - might as well admit it to himself now. She might not feel the same towards him - might _never_  feel that way, not the way she had with her first husband - but if only she might… 

He gently pressed the cloth to her forehead, moving to the bridge of her nose and down over her lips, then up along her jaw, tracing the lines of her face. _A Dhia_ did he want her and wish he had more to give her.

Her eyelids began to flutter and he stiffened momentarily, relaxing as she blinked at the sun overhead and grimaced. He smiled.

“That bad, was it?”


End file.
